


our song.

by borahaewu



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bang Chan & Lee Minho | Lee Know are Best Friends, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Heavy Angst, Lee Minho | Lee Know-centric, M/M, Musicians, Partially Blind Han Jisung, Pianist Han Jisung, Rape Recovery, i'll add tags as i go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28913124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borahaewu/pseuds/borahaewu
Summary: "Sometimes, it's better to lose someone than to lose yourself Minho."or where Minho's falling apart but Jisung's unknowingly helping him piece himself back to what he used to be.tw// descriptions of rape
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	our song.

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at summaries, yikes. This is the first time I'm going to be writing such a long story so I hope you like it :))

Minho could pinpoint the exact moment his musical career began to go to shit. 

It was supposed to be one awful night to satisfy one favour. That was all that horrible deal was supposed to be. However, that night which lasted only for a few hours turned into something so ugly and obscure that it cost Minho his entire life. 

It all began a week ago when his band--which consisted of him, Changbin, Felix and Bangchan--weren't able to grab any gigs. Which meant no money, of course. But, that would've been fine if they were well off, the clog in the machine was that they weren't and were desperate for it. 

Eventually, though, they threw it off as a misfortune, you can't expect your band to earn gigs all the time, so it didn't seem to bother them all that much. 

But Minho could see anxiety and distress swimming in their eyes as they calculated their savings for the next few months. Considering everything they had to pay off, they probably didn't have much left. 

So, Minho began to search around for any gigs they could grab before the end of summer vacation, he didn't want them worrying their minds off for the next few months. He knew they would just starve themselves at one point to pay up rent, fees or bills. 

"Sorry, our last slot was just booked by an indie band an hour ago. Uhm, we'll probably have a free slot after three weeks or so, would you like to take that one instead?" Minho's dejectedly dropped his head into his hands as he slumped against the cold counter. "No, thank you for the offer, though." 

He walked back a few steps to bow politely at the secretary and left after he had received a pitiful nod back. The situation made him lose his mind, laughing to himself, he recounted every look of pity he had received rather than a free slot in the last five hours or so. 

"Twenty down, one more to go." He groaned as he skimmed the long list of once potential gig offers, now a hopeless situation as they were all struck off instead. With every bright red line drawn, Minho could feel the weight on his shoulders grow heavier, not to forget the horrible waves of pain shooting through his system from the migraine that was building up behind his eyes.

He wanted to stop and go back home at this point. He could just send a message to his band in their group chat saying a short 'sorry guys, but everything's booked out for this summer,' they would understand. They always did. 

But when Minho began to think about the bills piling up on his kitchen counter, he didn't want that to be the case anymore. 

There was still one more bar left anyway, he couldn't imagine throwing away all of his hard work now because some stupid migraine was bothering him. He had to push himself and work harder, not only for him but for his entire team as well.

He knew that he wasn't the only one suffering. He knew from the calls he received from Changbin, late at night, asking him if to drive and accompany him to the hospital whenever he had to go check up on his sick mother. 

He knew it from the strained smile on Chans face every time he lied as a weak attempt to convince Minho that he had enough money to pay for his college tuition fees. 

He knew it every time Felix, oh Felix. Minho would be lying if he said he didn't have a soft spot for their youngest, the freckled boy would show up to his house at ungodly hours asking if he could sleepover with the biggest smile on his face, contrasting all the blue and black bruises painted all over his body. 

He shook his arms, wishing it could shake away the pain building up in them as well. "You can do this, Lee Minho! Get it together you asshole!" The small pep talk seemed to have worked since he felt a bit better. 

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the last bar he had to visit. He opened the door to his last hope, walking in with a small prayer hoping that this option would finally land his band a gig. 

Oh, but what a twisted way his prayers were answered to.

"Can't land a gig, pretty boy?"

A middle-aged manager asked while leaning against the rusty bar counter, sweat dripping steadily all over the surface as he lustily eyed Minho. The shiver he had felt as a chill went down his spine let him knew that he had to get out immediately. 

"I'm sorry we don't have any free slots." Minho's shoulder's slumped in disappointment, but he was more than relieved to know that they didn't. 

He turned around to leave but was immediately stopped as fingers wrapped around his wrist and turned him around to face forward again.   
His suspicions were immediately confirmed after the man's filthy hand reached out to tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. Minho flinched back, and that seemed to upset the manager. 

"Hey!", he yelled in anger but immediately calmed down to look at Minho with a warming smile, "I can help you get one though, do you want that gig or no?" He smirked while Minho began to tug his wrist as an attempt to free himself, but the man's grip only tightened.

"That is," Minho stopped to look up at him, "only if you give me something I need in return." 

Minho glared at the man. But, he didn't seem to be bothered by the whole ordeal at all. He pushed Minho closer to his body and rubbed his cheek gently with his thumb. "I'll even consider it a payment."

Minho knew where this was going. He knew that all he had to do was say no and run out of the bar. Probably, call someone to come get him. Chan wouldn't hesitate one bit to take him far away from this filth.  
If that didn't work, he could even yell for help and someone here in the crowd would spare him a curious glance. 

Weirdly enough, none of those ideas filtered through his mind. His thought process felt like a shaky network cable on a rainy afternoon, nothing made sense to him anymore.

An unfamiliar buzz coursed through his veins, he felt like he was struck with lightning, standing like a deer caught in the headlights while watching his surroundings. 

All he could think about was his bills, the weary smile on Changbins face after a horrible appointment, the dark circles under Chans face after working almost 6 part-time jobs a week and worst of all, the sobs wracking through Felix's body after running away from a place that was supposed to be his home. 

What a fucking joke. 

"What do you want?" Minho spat with the little dignity he had pushed so far down his throat so he could speak out. He felt so vulnerable and weak, the little energy he had left in him was starting to dissipate, leaving him shaky and cold. 

At one point, as the man approached him, he didn't know if it was the adrenaline, anger or fear working through him, he assumed it was all three of them the moment the man pushed him against a wall and inched closer to his face. 

A foul scent filled Minho's every being, etching into his memory so he could never forget this sinful deed.

All he could do at this point was just watch in fear and overwhelming disgust as the man slowly slipped his hand under his shirt and grabbed his waist. He scowled but was immediately stopped from saying anything when the man forcefully kissed him hard on the lips. He almost gagged as the man slid his tongue into his mouth since the slimy feeling made him feel nauseated.

"Now you're talking, pretty boy." 

What a fucking joke. 

Every attempt. Every cry, whimper, shout, anything he tried to do as a struggle while being pulled into a private room, was all a fucking joke. 

Every time he whimpered in fear after being tugged around too harshly, he'd be slapped as a punishment. Every second he spent struggling against the ruthless hands that were undressing him meant nothing, his pleads were insignificant. 

He bought this upon himself anyway. 

A slut for money, disgusting and vile. That was all he thought of himself as the man forced himself into him. 

Minho couldn't believe what was happening, he didn't want to. But, he was slapped back into reality once the man began to move inside of him. The scream he let out felt unreal, he couldn't believe his own ears as he heard himself cry for help. He never thought he'd be in his situation.  
  
He tried to struggle free, but the man only pinned him down harder and pushed in deeper, leaving Minho immobile. He felt his tears steadily drip onto the pillow, he just wanted to get away from here, from everything. 

He just wanted to go home. 

"Shh," the man said as he wiped his tears away and kissed him, "look at you taking me all in, fuck you're so beautiful," he whispered in between their kisses and pushed deeper. Minho let out a groan but the filth on top of him just kissed him again and moaned. "So good for me baby boy, you're so good." 

His mentality began to break down bit by bit with every praise that was whispered into his ears. It picked apart his self-esteem, so agonizingly slow that it killed every little emotion he had left in him.

At one point, as the man began to go faster, he didn't even seem to care. The pain his body suffered from being violated didn't even stand a mere chance against the pain ripping his heart apart into shreds.   
He watched emotionlessly as the man came inside him and pulled out slowly.

"Ah fuck, Minho? Did you say? Anyway, that was great. I needed that," he groaned as he stood up and grabbed his pants. The man pulled his wallet out and threw a few bills at Minho's chest, "here, a little gift for you slut." 

Minho sat up a bit and winced as his lower back throbbed painfully. He watched as the man dressed himself up, "can't wait to see you next week. I hope your little band does well."

Minho picked up his clothes by the floor as the door slammed shut behind him, his vision blurring as he picked up his jacket. He took a deep breath and wiped the tears off his face as he opened the door to go out. It all kept playing in his head over and over again like a broken record, he couldn't stop thinking about it even after he got out of the bar and hailed a cab to go home.

He stared at the bills in his hand, maybe he could get some snacks for the guys. 


End file.
